in recent months I am finding that much of the stuff I thought I knew, I actually don’t. and that has been really liberating because I see that I cannot hold myself responsible for stuff I don’t really know about. it’s a shame that there seems to be such a widespread bias against not-knowing. but then I don’t even really know that such a bias exists. at least in my life it always did. for example, I always thought I had to make decisions. I thought that that’s how my life ran, and everyone else’s, by the power of calculated intention. it only took a closer look to realize that actually, in my life, things have a way of happening and then I either know what to do, or I don’t. when I know, there’s no decision to make, I just do it. when I don’t, there’s still no decision to make. I have my stand: I don’t know. and yes, to some things, especially those fleeting by, a non-yes is usually a no. not knowing whether to board a train usually means not boarding it, unless I notice that I’m on it. and not knowing might not be a good enough reason to board it. so there’s my decision, and I didn’t even have to make it. either I’m on the train, or not. I could torment myself for months over the need to make a decision about something, or I could accept that I just don’t know - either way, I’m not making it, and life happens. when I know, I know; when I don’t, I don’t. and it changes all the time without me doing anything. tomorrow something might happen, and suddenly I’ll know. or not.
so I was looking at my parents the other day, and then I heard myself saying: “mom, dad - just wondering, what would be the thing I did in my life that would bring you the most joy and happiness? what one thing would you be most satisfied with?”
it was a trick question, of course, because it assumed their own happiness can ever depend on something I do, which in reality would not be true. but I trusted them to know whether it was true or not for them, and had a strong feeling that it was. I did not expect a “son, you’re already so perfect and amazing that we cannot imagine anything you can do that would make us any happier than we are.”
it didn’t take them long.
mom said having children. dad said marrying a woman (and, he promptly added, having children with her).
so I said “hmm. okay. thanks.” and went back to my apple sauce.
I did not see a problem with this little exchange until I described it to a friend of mine who was slightly shocked: “how insensitive! they know you’re not straight, right?”
they do know I’m not straight. but insensitive? not at all, I said. I mean, what would be kinder, if they lied to me about how they really felt? at least this way I know what I’m dealing with here. if ever I went for selling a million records and filling up Carnegie Hall, well, now I know I had better not do it for them, because impressed they might be, ecstatic - hardly. in fact, they might even disapprove if my career deferred me from procreation. so now I know what not to expect. and in the less-than-likely event that I did feel like marrying a woman, I now know that my parents would be the right people to ask to cover expenses. it would bring them so much pleasure. and not only that, but if said impulse does arise it would probably be less of a muddle separating between my own passions and theirs, as subliminally conveyed through coercion over years of upbringing. until I just came out and asked right up. now I can be very clear about our differences: they have an ideology regarding my future, and I don’t. and only an ideology can make you disappointed with a particular outcome.
